


Everything I Did

by theeventualwinner



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drama, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeventualwinner/pseuds/theeventualwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros, captive in the dungeons of Angband, reflects on actions that can never be taken back, an innocence forever lost, and the decisions that still lie before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything I Did

Everything I did, I did it for you.

I remember those breathless days, dappled in gold, streaked with silver. Princes of the Noldor we rode through hallowed lands, swift, tireless.

I remember the hunts. We would abandon them all, delve our own paths through trackless forests. Together, we were always together. 

I remember the light glinting on your hair, divinity trapped in life.

I remember the way you smiled at me.

And then I was ripped away, forced by fealty, by oath sworn in bloodlust hate. 

I wanted to avenge my birthright, those blinding gemstones, gleaming from facets unflawed, pure. Perfect.

I wanted to help my family; my brothers, my father. I could not abandon them.

(I wanted to be with you) 

Terrible things we did that night, that night dripping crimson. I remember the weight of the sword in my hand, such cold steel rang alive amongst the flames, the screams. 

I remember his face. Some soldier. He was just doing his duty, protecting his lord. 

That sickening crunch of splitting bone, his skull cloven by my sword, that hiss of surprise. I remember the light dim, fade in his eyes; clenching, spasming muscles stiffening, then limpness. Nothingness.

I remember the look on his face. 

It punched right through me.

Traitor.

And then we left you. My father, he led us, what could I do? I asked pleaded begged him to come back, to find you but he was resolute. 

When we landed, those first broken steps on foreign terrain, I thought he’d come back for you. Oh how naively I thought. 

He burned the ships, a final spite. I tried to stop them, I have told you so many times in my dreams, screamed it out in my nightmares, that I tried, I tried to make them stop, to think, to go back to find you, turn back from this reckless fate or delay it still. But I failed. 

Those great swan-ships, bone-white and beautiful, consumed in flames and broiling hatred. I could hear them moaning, timbers creaking in solemn dirge. 

It was like they knew they were dying.

And you knew it too. Forced through that frozen hell, the grinding ice. For my failures condemned, for my failures punished. 

I was going to find you, of that I was certain. I would leave my brothers to their ruinous war, my father to his hopeless revenge, I would walk away from them all. 

Oathbreaker. 

And I would have done it all for you.

But I was taken. By that cursed god of malice. By the foul orcs of Morgoth, thrown in chains before the enemy.

Their whips cleave skin from muscle.

Their knives carve vermilion sculptures,

They drip through ribs, flow over vertebrae. 

Paint brutal flowers on the stones. 

Their machines splinter bones, those awful grating cracks

And I arch my back and I scream and I scream as 

Chitin and flesh entwine in one brutal moment.

(I think I saw you in my sleep.) 

I ran to you, desperate, begging my voice choking sobbing please please help me I can’t do it please I can’t go on I’ve tried so hard not to break, not to shatter to lose myself but I’m fracturing please don’t let them take me and I grab you and spin you to face me to look at me and 

(They had scratched out your eyes)

I could have broken. I could have told him. In those moments where it was just me and the void, I could have whispered it, could have bled it raw and beating, spilled myself and told them, confessed, begged mercy and told them everything, everything to give it an end. 

To give me meaning.

But I couldn’t. 

(They will find you.)

I couldn’t. 

(They will take you, they will break you.)

Because what if it was you?

(They will rip you apart and it will be because of me.)

Before the nightmare king, suffering their tortures, 

What if it was you?


End file.
